


It's Miserable and Magical

by generalllymild



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dealing with a break-up, Drinking, Louis has a problem with the word Home, Louis is a runner basically, M/M, Sunrises, Tswift songs and too much singing, alternative title: End-up Dreaming Instead of Sleeping, bathtub adventures, enough-angsty, featuring Drag Me Down!!, it's mainly ot4 with a little bit of Nick in there too, midnight drives and swims, moviedates, nervous boys, not very angsty but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalllymild/pseuds/generalllymild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis promises to jump and never fall again; Drive through the fog and catch a sunrise in your hands, make it your home. </p>
<p>"Once you’ve left, got the car started and running, you just want to keep going. The time disappears, the clocks stop ticking. You learn how to take air in your lungs and back, again. You clear your head, wipe the corners clean from dust and box the memories away. 'I’m on my way', you tell yourself. And this time, you know where you’re going. You tell your brain to keep quiet when it whispers ‘home’. </p>
<p>It gets easier when you’ve got the car running, though."</p>
<p>Louis makes his boys his familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Miserable and Magical

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glazedsun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glazedsun/gifts).



> From the prompt: "Nick has to leave town for a few months for work and decides to rent out his flat during that time. Louis needs a break from home and decides to rent the place. The lads welcome him, and they all grow close and wind up together. I don't care about the pairing(s) for this one so much as the idea of Louis falling in love in this new place." 
> 
> Also big thanks to my beta, Emma, you've been amazing as usual, thank you!! 
> 
> Hope you like it :)

 

 

_Starting a car when not only your hands, but your whole body, is shaking like a leaf in a downpour is relatively hard. It’s almost as hard as walking out of the door, acting nonchalant, when there’s a tidal wave right behind the surface, threatening to break through, to break you. Forcing your brain to think they know a place to go; you’re lost in a snowstorm in the summer. Your teeth leave marks on your lip, closing the words inside a cage._ ‘I still love you’ _s are locked down in your throat, in your heart._ ‘I can change _’s drop in the pits of your stomach, staying there like rocks, pressing you down, but at least they aren’t getting out. You hope they aren’t, ever again._

 

_It gets easier when you’ve got the car running, though. The drops have formed into a numbing stream, an ocean on your cheeks, on the knees of your black jeans, on the car seats. Shaking has turned into a tight grip on the steering wheel. The fog on the road might be just your eyes, or your brain, you don’t know. You drive to the sea, running on auto. You hope the fog will disappear, drown into infinity._

 

_You sleep on the back seats of your car, ‘cause home doesn’t feel like home anymore. You promise yourself you won’t ever go back._

 

*

 

Louis wakes up with a sore body and a flock of seagulls screeching on the other side of his car window. “Shut up!” he misses the quiet of the night already. His brain is all mushy, like he’s hangover, although he doesn’t remember drinking the night before. Dragging a hand across his face, Louis sighs and gets unsteadily out of the car, on his feet. First thing he notices is the grey fog above the sea, all around him, pulling him in and hugging him. He’d hoped to get away, but apparently the fog follows him everywhere. Deciding on walking, trying to clear his head, he heads towards the lights of what he supposes is a gas station.

 

The yelling of the seagulls fades further away and his brain starts to stir awake. Instantly Louis wishes someone would come and shout in his ears, kick him, anything so it wouldn’t be just him and his thoughts. Memories hit him like swords, flashbacks blinding his eyes. He remembers dressing for a date night with his girlfriend; he remembers her saying “we should be just friends” although it might have been “I found a new one, a better one ” as well. He isn’t sure. Air escaped him and fog filled up his lungs instead.

 

“Beautiful day isn’t it? Finally we ‘ave some sun in ‘ere, too” Louis is startled out of the inside of his head by a old lady, a stranger, a passer-by. It wouldn’t matter to Louis on any other day, but today he feels extremely thankful for this passer-by. The lady smiles a little sadly at him, must have seen the lines under his eyes and his crumpled clothes. Louis smiles back, until he realizes she had talked to him.

 

“Sun? But there’s fog as far as the eye carries, isn’t there?” Louis frowns at himself.

 

“No, love, it’s a very pretty mornin’, none of those clouds, either. Are ya alright?” the lady’s smile falters a little, turns that much more sad.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I...yeah, sure.” Louis mutters and watches the lady give him one last worry-filled look and carry on her way. He follows the lady with his eyes until she disappears around the corner. He looks at the sea, dressed in grey fog. Louis feels more confused than ever.

 

*

 

A few minutes later Louis’s sitting in a small, trashy diner, next to the gas station. Warming his cold hands around a mug of tea, although the newspaper in front of him tells him it really is a beautiful, warm day. In between of wars and celebrity weddings, something catches his eye. ‘ _Looking for a new start? In a need of a change of scenery?_ _Take the chance!_ ’ Under the title there’s a half-a-page of houses and rooms for rent. Something in Louis perks up, says ‘this is for you!’. He ends up reading them all, most of them twice, even though he’s trying to turn the page at the same time, keeps telling himself he already has a home. It sounds like lies even to his own ears. Especially to his own ears.

 

When he catches himself reading one of the ads for the fourth, maybe sixth, time, he, --after questioning Life and Everything, swearing at himself and taking about fifty calm breaths,-- fishes his almost-dead phone out of his back pocket and dials the number from the ad. And then he waits.

 

*

 

“Nick! The phone! It’s an unknown number, I bet it’s someone wanting to rent your place-”

 

“Ni, no one’s going to rent _my place,_ just a place from the house. _Our_ place. It’s only for a couple of months, it’s gonna be fine.” Nick comes to the kitchen, where his phone is ringing on the table, and puts a comforting arm around Niall. They’re all a bit tensed up, with Nick’s work trip coming up around the corner and a stranger staying at the house.

 

“Yeah, I know, it’s just. We’ll miss you, you know. All of us. And what if the renter’ll be awful, we’ll have to deal with them for months _._ ” Niall leans his head against Nick, sighing. It’s going to be a long two months. “C’mon, answer the phone.”

 

Closing his eyes briefly and breathing out, Nick presses the phone to his ear. “Hello, this is Nick Grimshaw.”

 

There’s a short silence on the other side, and a breathy voice answers. “Hi, I saw your newspaper ad, and I…” the caller laughs quietly before continuing,“I guess I’d like to rent the place? Oh, and I’m Louis.” The called coughs softly, the nervous sort of cough. “Tomlinson.”

 

“Hi, Louis. So…” Nick is sure he had something clever to say a second ago, but. Things change. His brain is idle. His eyes search the kitchen for Niall, but he's nowhere to be found. Panic settles in his throat.

 

“So..” Nick hears rustling of papers and Louis uncomfortably swallowing on the other side. He considers calling Harry to tell one of his dumb knock-knock jokes to break the ice, which. Is pretty desperate. _Say something. Anything. C’mon, Nick._

 

This is when the front door opens and Liam steps in. Nick rushes to him and shoves the phone in very confused Liam’s hands. “It’s Louis” is all he says before running off and jumping face down on the couch. _And you’re a radio host,_ Nick says disappointingly to himself.  

 

“Who’s Loui- oh hi, Louis!” If Nick’s face wasn’t in a pillow, he would see Liam trying to murder him with his eyes.

 

“Uh...is everything alright there?” Liam almost feels sorry for Louis. And he still doesn’t know who this Louis even is. _Bloody Nick,_ Liam curses.

 

“Yeah, yeah. So...hope you don’t mind dogs? Nick has one, gonna leave us to babysit her. Oh, I’m Liam, me and two other boys’ll be living with you. I mean, if you want to, I assume you called for renting the place.” Liam gives one last murderous glance towards the Nick shaped lump on the couch.

 

"Uh, no, I’m okay with dogs...so, you're going to rent the place for me? When could I come down there?" Louis says all this in one breath, like he was afraid he'd chicken out and hang up. His eyes skim through the ad on the paper, over and over, without understanding what he’s reading, words swimming and jumping, diving into one big clump.

 

"You could come to see the place, and us, as soon as you can, really." Liam swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

 

"I'll come today, if that's alright?" With quick goodbyes, both running out of air, holding it in, they press red and breathe out. Louis rests his head on the cold table, closing his eyes. It’s been a long day.

 

*

 

_Once you’ve left, got the car started and running, you just want to keep going. The time disappears, the clocks stop ticking. You learn how to take air in your lungs and back, again. The fog is still there, but you’re used to it. You clear your head, wipe the corners clean from dust and box the memories away._ I’m on my way, _you tell yourself. And this time, you know where you’re going. You tell your brain to keep quiet when it whispers ‘_ home _’._

 

_By the time the sun’s starting to set, you arrive to your destination. After hours, or decades, of driving, you’re tired, afraid your legs are going to give out and fail you. Getting out of the car, you see the house for the first time. In the setting sunlight, it’s warm and welcoming. You put on a smile, and it doesn’t feel fake. You feel warm, even with the fog. And you hope._

 

*

 

“I hope he’s nice.” Harry mutters, holding his breath like a kid would his favourite teddy bear, waiting for Nick to open the door.

 

Clicking of a lock, the lock in Nick’s stomach, his knotted insides; the lock in Louis’ throat, words hiding behind the trees of doubts; the lock on the door of new beginnings.

 

And there they are, face to face, without any words. Niall, _bless him, Nick thinks,_ steps to his rescue, breaks the locked down ice and hugs Louis. The locks inside Louis break and crash, making him sag into the hug, his tears on Niall’s jumper.

 

“Oh, oops. Hi, hey. I got you.” Niall tightens his arms around Louis. Not long, and there’s four pairs of arms holding him, welcoming him to their home. _Home,_ Louis thinks.

 

Hello’s and hi ya’s come and go, time passing, eyes are being closed, tears wiped and deep breaths are taken, breathing in the sweetness of the night air.

 

Nick’s phone starts to ring. His ringtone, Shake It Off, blasts out, twists and turns, opening the last of the locks. Laughter drowns out the song, whispering _it’s okay now._  Louis’ fog clears out for a tiny bit and the night stars shine through. It’s not much, but it’s enough, for now.

 

"It was my boss. The flight schedule has changed. It's taking off in two hours." Nick suddenly looks much older, eyes tired. A quiet cloud settles over them, arms opening to engulf him. The air is still, silent, hanging low over and around them. _Is there some quiet loud enough to drown in?_

 

Retreating, Nick takes a deep breathe and gets his bags. The door of new beginnings clicks shut, goodbye's escaping after him. After that, it's clear to them all they can't let Louis go, not tonight. Louis doesn't want them to let him go, either. He's exhausted and he's staying. At least for now.

 

*

 

Louis has never felt so small, or loved. Harry’s singing is heard from somewhere under the pillows, tangled legs and hands, human-pillows. Louis isn’t so sure which was which anymore. He doesn’t care, as long as the pillows keep rubbing his back and pressing him close. He feels like those days lifetimes ago, when he had built blanket forts with his best friend, to feel like they were the only people in the world, to feel safe in their own bubble. That’s how Louis feels in that moment, safe, loved. He wants to bottle this moment and keep it on his night-stand. He wants a whole collection of these moments.

 

“Hi. The sun’s gonna rise soon. You know what we should do?” Niall is the first one to speak for minutes, maybe hours. Louis is pretty sure time doesn’t exist in this house. The almost-whispers fit well into the dark.

 

“Drive to the sea for a romantic sunrise-watching?” Harry pauses his singing to answer, raising his head to give a lazy smile to Niall.

 

“You know that there’s an hour’s drive to the sea, right?” Liam reminds the boys, only his words lose their effort after he smiles fondly. Louis can feel it, their smiles in the air, bouncing off the walls of their bubble and reflecting back to his heart. Louis closes his eyes and turns his head so his ear is pressed to Liam’s heart. If possible, he feels even more safe, with something so _real_ and warm, living, under him. It almost feels like home.

 

*

 

“Who the fuck made this playlist? It’s incredibly stupid, I love it.” It’s the first time Louis laughs genuinely after all the fog appeared. It’s the first time in ages he feels young and free, careless. The car purrs under him, Taylor Swift blasting out of the speakers. The boys join in on the song, interrupted by their laughing here and there. None of them really cares.

 

“Nick did. His music taste is amazing, isn’t it. Or shit, depends who’re you asking.” Liam grins behind the wheel.

 

_“It feels like a perfect night for breakfast at midnight_

_To fall in love with strangers uh uh uh uh”_  

 

Louis is pretty sure he just imagined the slight drop in the mood, the boy’s eyes looking down just that much more. He’s pretty sure it’s just his imagination, the whole feeling of there being a secret he isn’t a part of. He’s pretty sure.

 

_“I don't know about you, but I’m feeling 22_

_Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you”_

 

“Guys, I have to tell you something.” Louis pauses singing and looks at the boys, his face serious, like he was about to confess he has killed a dog. “I’m not twenty-two, actually. I’m twenty-three.” A grin breaks through at the last word, just before three hands reaches for him and smacks him, light, playful.

 

“Louis! You idiot! We thought you’d tell us something...meaningful. Something big.” Niall said, laughing ringing around them. "Like confessing you're already in love with us." Drunk on the moment, the moonlight buzzing in his veins, Niall feels untouchable, careless. Immortal. "Which, you should be, I mean, how couldn't you be? Everybody loves me, right, boys?" He tosses one carefree smug grin at Harry and Liam.

 

"Niall." Liam hisses at him, giving a quick worried glance at Louis. "Shut up." Gripping the wheel tighter, he casts his eyes down, worrying his teeth over his bottom lip.

 

_“and end up dreaming instead of sleeping”_

 

"We do love you, though. Even Liam"  Harry says where he has his head on Niall’s lap, laughing a little. His smile falters and he sighs “This music makes me wish he was here, you know. He would’ve liked trips like this.” It takes Louis a moment to realize he’s talking about Nick.

 

“We all do, H. It’s just a couple of months.” Not raising his eyes, Liam sounds like he’s telling himself that, more than Harry.

 

_“You look like bad news, I gotta have you, I gotta have you.”_

 

*

 

After an hour of Tswift, sun fast asleep, Liam parks the car. In the darkness sounds of stretching and yawns wrap around them like a warm blanket.

 

“Now that we’re all the way here, we can’t just _not_ swim.” Half-asleep Niall says, his grin audible.

 

“Now, that’s an idea I can get behind.” Louis rubs the sleepy atmosphere out of the corners of his eyes and turns to look at the ones in the back, wearing the same look as Niall. “Who’s first in the water!”

 

Laughter drops on the ground with their clothes, the difference being that their laughter, after touching the rocks, jumps, flies, makes its way into the water. Louis, being the first one out of the car, his feet pounding a rhythm on the rocks; feels arms around his waist, stopping him in his tracks.

 

"I'm being murdered! Help!" Louis laughs, squeaking as his captor lifts him off the ground.

 

"Sorry, babe, I’m on my way to victory and fame!"

 

While Louis tries to get Harry to let him go, Liam runs past them and cannon-balls into the water, Niall right on his heels. A second and they remerge from under the surface, hair wet, eyes sparkling in the dark, creating their own light. Lighting up Louis from inside. He feels Harry's curls on his neck and he leans his head backwards, eyes slipping half closed. He wants this, he thinks, everlasting, immortal smile on his lips. He wants the boys, he wants their midnight wonders, the crinkles around their eyes when they laugh. He wants them, not only on his nightstand, but in his nights, too.

 

So they end up watching as the sun rises, heads and hands on each other, comforting. Eyes and hearts open, like they were birds that couldn’t be caged. It’s like Louis always used to imagine being young and free; friends and soulmates. He tells his brain to stop thinking and for once, it does. Even it’s content with just _this._ This reality, these boys. This version of _now_.

 

So they end up falling, jumping head first; falling asleep and maybe somewhere else too. So Louis ends up driving, --after promising Liam he would know the way back, --the only one still awake, listening to their dreams of wonderlands, like he didn’t need to dream. And he doesn’t. The wonderland is here, within their laughs and their tears. Within their freedom.

 

So Louis drives, a bottled moment appearing on his nightstand. Louis drives and he smiles, ‘cause with the sun rising, his very own fog doesn’t.

 

*

 

"Morning, babe." Louis pads into the kitchen, just in time to see Liam peck Harry on his cheek.

 

Louis has one vague, hazy memory of stumbling in after the sun had risen, collapsing all on the same bed, still in their clothes, legs over each others, arms loosely around waists. He rubs his hands on his eyes.

 

"More like afternoon. We definitely slept in." Louis yawns, leaning on the doorway, having a conversation about casual kissing between roommates with himself. Surely twenty-something blokes kiss each other the first thing in the morning? It was just on the cheek. He kisses his mom and sisters on the cheek. Normal. _Okay, good, so do I get a kiss too? Or will I be left out on this, 'cause...how rude. Is this how you treat guests?_ Ending the discussion in his head, he pads closer, and maybe he hopes, waits for a good afternoon kiss for himself. It never comes. _Too early_ , Louis tells himself.

 

Turning his head towards Louis, startling, Liam quickly takes his arm off from where it had been resting on Harry's waist just a moment before, like he was afraid of getting burnt. "Oh, you're up already. I was just about to set the table. Harry's making breakfast for us." The red colour on Liam's cheeks might have been from the heat of the frying pan. Or not. Louis raises his eyebrow as Liam hurries to take plates from the cabinet.

 

"Niall's still sleeping." Harry smiles at him over his shoulder. "And probably will be sleeping till the world ends, or till we go and jump on his bed." Dimples appear on Harry's cheek, right where Liam had kissed him earlier. Louis opened his mouth to make a joke; "Is jumping all you do in bed or-"; but at the last minute he chuckles and closes his mouth. _Too early, Louis,_ he tells himself. "-do you also...what's that, rhymes with jumping, starts with a h..." He bites his lip to keep his laughter inside.

 

*

 

"Aw, Li, you don't have to pay for me, I'll come home with you anyway." Louis flutters his eyelashes up at Liam, who rolls his eyes at him. Louis has climbed his way into the shopping cart and was now enjoying the opportunity to tease Liam and not having to walk with his own legs. They were on the journey of buying Louis a toothbrush, as he had realized he hadn’t brought anything with him. He hadn't even gone home, hadn't thought he could get his feet to move, his hands to get the keys out and into the lock.

 

Harry, standing on the other end of the aisle, eyes the shopping list they had made before leaving. _Bread. Milk, skimmed._ He recognizes Liam's handwriting as clearly as Liam would be saying the things on the paper. On the list, there was a couple empty rows, a change in the handwriting, a change in the voice. _Those good small tomatoes H bought once._ Niall. Harry smiles fondly at the memory; Niall had refused to eat the tomatoes for days, and then there was a bet. Nick had lost his money and Niall has eaten the last tomatoes, reluctantly confessed he liked them. Harry shakes his head.

 

On the last bit of the paper, after his own fruits, a new handwriting, a new voice. _Toothbrush._ Harry likes this voice. He decides to keep this one.

 

He looks at the shopping cart, in time to see Niall and Louis being pushed around the shop by Liam, their laughter turning eyes on them. He hurries to get everything they need before someone would throw them out.

 

He wouldn't have it any other way.

 

*

 

At the end they had everyone's foods, Louis' toothbrush and alcohol to last a week or three. Or, it should last a week, but would be gone in a night.

 

At the end they had a dark cinema, seats right in the top row, opening scene playing on the screen. Popcorn was thrown into open mouths, hands stifling giggles underwater.

 

At the end Louis had sleep in the corners of his eyes, a head on both of his shoulders. At the end he had a hand creeping, sleepwalking into both of his hands. A leg nudging his, making sure he was still there. Curling his leg around it, comforting; he was still here.

 

At the end Louis was floating, hovering. Almost-there's crossing his mind, heads turning to glance, peak at one another. Friends?

 

_But then again, if we're not friends,_   
_Someone else might love you too_

 

Louis swallowed, throat dry; a peck on the cheek, the few beds they owned. He felt Liam nuzzle his neck, almost asleep. Almost.

 

He wanted to open his mouth: to ask, to whisper, --to be alive, living. Warm, strong. He swallowed the words; almost.

 

*

 

"Nick." Harry breathes out a relieved sigh. "Hi."

 

"Hi ya, H." Nick's smile reflected on his voice, ran through the phone lines all the way from the other end of the world. Liam and Niall say their hello's, phone on the bed beside them.

 

"How's it going, then? You spend all your time missing me, of course?" Nick's teasing voice cracked a little; hitting too close to home.

 

Harry laughs, wetly; he has swimmy eyes already. "Yeah, yeah. We do. And umm-" he closes his mouth, his eyes pleading between Liam and Niall.

 

"Louis is nice." Liam says, biting his lip.

 

"Yeah, he is. He's really nice." Nick says in a small voice. "He's easy to talk to, after we got our shit together. Our phone calls aren’t awkward anymore. And he’s funny, too." Silence coats them once more, no one saying a word, everyone waiting for the inevitable.

 

"We took him to the movies the other night. Or he took us, I'm not sure anymore. You know, as friends." Liam said, pausing. "It was...nice."

 

"I'm happy you're having fun. I hope you know that. Louis seems nice.“ He chuckles, “I trust your word on him.”

 

The three of them look up at one another, smiles worth a hundred sunsets painted on their faces. _It's alright._

 

*

 

Somewhere between the sun setting and midnight, after the first bottle of whiskey gone, Louis could feel his walls crumbling down, defenses and heartbreaks far behind. He finds himself giggling half of the time, music in the background, making his veins buzz. His fingers idly curl around a strand of Harry's hair, his head on Louis' lap. He hears Liam singing along to some of the songs, adding his high notes where they necessary didn't belong. Louis likes every song better like this.

 

_I've got fire for a heart_

 

"Oh, Ni, turn it up! This’s my song!" Louis scrambles to stand up, jostling Harry and Liam next to him.

 

_I'm not scared of the dark_

 

_"_ C'mon, boys, come dance with me." Louis flutters his eyelashes, offering his hands to Harry, who rubs his eyes once and climbs to his giraffe legs,-- and a frowning Liam, whose hand moves to grab his before his brain catches up. Louis leaps on the bed, singing the words in his high, breathy voice, his jumping around making the pillows jump with him. It isn't the first time the boys hear him sing, but their mouths still freeze, eyes glued on Louis; living, singing, giggling Louis.

 

_All my life, you stood by me_

 

He jumps down, taking Niall’s hand and spinning around under it. Niall’s heart beating behind his spine, Louis nuzzles his head on his neck, writing the lyrics on his jaw with his breath. Niall’s words caught in his throat, Louis’ mouth, teeth on him, nibbling, biting down his neck.

 

_With your love, nobody can drag me down_

 

Louis dances to Liam, Niall on his mouth; he tastes familiar. Louis hates that word; it’s not real. He wants it to be, wants to make this place, these boys his _familiar._ Liam’s biting his lip, looking worried, and when he’s nose to nose with him, Liam too scared to breathe, Louis turns around and takes Liam's hands. Bobbing his ass, still breathing out the lyrics, he moves Liam's hands to his hips.

 

_Nobody, nobody_

 

Louis lets go of his hands, reaching for the back of Liam's head. Louis' hands grazing his short hair, Liam leans his head into Louis' neck, breathing in, eyes closed. Niall's cackle runs a lap around the room, ending in an awkward silence. He shifts in his seat on the bed, walking his fingers down the ghost of Louis on his throat.

 

_Nobody can drag me_

 

Louis’ breath burns Liam’s skin, the singing turning into whispers on his lips. A dream on their fingertips.

 

_down_

 

Louis spins away, a dream creature running, leaving Liam to bleed dry on the pavement. He almost catches his hand, says ‘please stay _’._ He doesn’t. He lets him go, as waves crash inside him, making the room swim.

 

_And baby you’re a boat_

 

“H, tell us why you got your tattoo, would you?” Louis jumps down in front of Harry, tracing his finger around the edges of the boat on his bicep. “The boat?” he looks up at Harry, waiting.

 

“Oh. Oh, the boat, okay.” Harry coughs, “I get homesick sometimes. I got it as a reminder of home, always finding your way--Lou,--”

 

_Baby you're my only reason_

 

And the time stops, Harry left with a bruise on his bicep, on his boat, Louis with the taste of Harry on his lips. It tastes like home. Louis bites his lip so hard it almost bleeds, digging his teeth into _home,_ breaking it apart. Breaking his walls, building them up. _Home._ Throwing the bricks from his walls on windows, getting glass under his palms. _This could never be yours, your home._ But god, did he want it. He feels the world tip around, throwing him off balance.

 

_If I didn't have you there would be nothing left_

 

Louis has stopped singing even since it became too much, his head spacey, the welling behind his eyes. He needs to run, get away, but the floor sways, slitting in the middle and threating to pull him down. He doesn’t hear the music, doesn’t hear the voices around the edges of him. He feels his heart trying to pound a hole in his chest.

 

“Louis.” Liam asks, hazy around the edges, worry in his voice. A teardrop slides down Louis’ cheek. The song changes, slowing everything down around them. In slow motion, Louis turns and walks out of the door. _Run, when it gets too much. Run and don’t look back._

 

His feet speed up, when he can’t feel the looks on his back anymore, questioning. _Out of the door, close the door._ His hands are cold. _Open the door, sit down, close the door._ His head turns inside out, upside down, until it settles on a dull feeling of empty. _Turn the key on the lock._ He doesn’t let his thoughts catch up. _Get the car running. Run._

 

*

 

_Starting a car when you don’t know how you lost your ability to breathe is relatively hard. How does one breathe? How does one know the lines, where do the lines go? Where do the lines cut through us, our pounding hearts? You want to be loved, but how does one touch another, when you don’t know how to move your hands? Your boys. How did they become yours? Didn’t you promise to jump and never fall again? How does one forget how it will end, always ends? His soft singing rings in your head, bounces off the walls. You feel the ghosts of hands petting your hair, his heartbeat under you, living, strong, warm. The sparks in his eyes, the laughter lines around his eyes. The comfort in his voice, calming you down._

 

_It gets easier when you’ve got the car running, though. There’s tears on your cheeks. Tears, smelling like roses, love. ‘Cause that’s what you do, love. You love your boys. And the fog doesn’t show this time. You sigh, maybe in relief, maybe you’re just tired. You close your eyes, your hand searches for them. You rest your heavy head on the steering wheel._

 

_Home. How does one lose and find home again? How does one know it won’t be just a repeat? You don’t want to leave and find your home, when you’ve found it already. You turn the car around. You just want to go home._

 

*

 

“We should go, what’re we doing here when he’s...not here-” Liam says, spacing around the living room.

 

Niall sighs, wrapping his arms around Liam and stopping him mid-step. They all have dark bags under their eyes; from the sleepless night or the worry-filled pits in their stomachs, probably both. Liam melts under his touch, the first rays of sunlight hitting his skin.

 

“He’ll be here.” Harry whispers, joining in on their embrace.

 

“I’ll check the road, just in case.” Niall breaks from the hug, with hope in his voice. Choked, but still alive; that’s how their hope was, that’s how they felt.

 

Cold early morning air hits his face as he steps outside, trying not to hope. A dark car comes into view, his heart stopping, then speeding up. Hope breaks above the surface, getting air into its lungs.

 

“Louis?” Niall’s voice is hoarse, tired, but more awake than ever. Telling himself _it could be any car, don’t hope,_ his legs move closer.

 

The figure turns its head, silhouette moving like a dream, surreal and slowing everything down in its wake. After what could’ve been five seconds or years, it opens the door.

Both silent, stepping towards each other, sun lighting up Louis face, making Niall draw in a breath. Shoulders hunched, Louis meets Niall’s eyes, bumping into him and burrowing himself to his side. Niall feels a wet patch form where Louis has his face hiding from the world. His hand finds its way to Louis’ hair, comforting, as Louis’ sobs shake them both.

 

A pair of footsteps come towards them, arms and hands reaching out. An eight legged dream creature, silent, except for crystal tears hitting the ground; standing in the morning, on the driveway of their home.

 

“I’m sorry, I--I’m sorry.” Louis lifts his head, shiny eyes meeting the others’. “I don’t know what” he hiccups, letting a breath out, “what should I do.” He sees the bruise on Harry’s arm, wanting to press his finger to it, smooth it out. Make it all okay.

 

“Louis, we--” Liam starts, but he doesn’t know what to do, either. He glances at the other two, before dropping his eyes again.

 

“We don’t know what to do, either. But, if..if you want--” Harry stumbles with his words; it isn’t easy to say something when you didn’t _know_.

 

“God, Louis. We want you. And maybe none of us knows anything, right now, but” Niall rests his hand on Louis’ arm, “we could, you know. Figure it out. If you want.” When the moment drags along, air still, doubt creeps into Niall’s head, making him draw his hand away.

 

Like breaking a spell, Louis launches forward, wrapping his arms around the three of them. Crystal drops make their way down towards the ground, only to be stopped by collars, sleeves and hands. They wouldn’t let them fall, not anymore. Wouldn’t let Louis fall.

 

“Yeah. I want--” Louis tightens his hold, “I want to. I want you.” Louis laughs, “I want all of you and I want all of _this_. I want to come home.”

 

*

 

“Shame you can’t all fit into the bathtub. I bet you would.” Liam’s on the phone with Nick, complaining about Harry and his bloody bath bombs taking too long in the bath, their only bathtub.

 

“But we haven’t even tried, you can’t say we wouldn’t.” Liam knows where this was going, and that was catastrophe, considering that he lives with a bunch of competitive boys. This was heading to watery floors and tangled limbs. Liam smiles at the image.

 

“Hey, guys, Nick says we can’t all fit into the bathtub!” Liam grins and puts Nick on speaker. He could almost see him rolling his eyes.

 

“Hi Nick! You know what you’ve just done, right?” Niall yells at the phone, smirking. “I’m not the one cleaning the floor, just saying.”

 

The sound of water running floods to the room. “Get ready, boys! It’s on!” Harry’s head peaks out of the bathroom, the same sparkle in his eyes as the others had. In his head, Louis bottles the moment and places it on his night-stand. He loves his boys so much in that moment, he’s afraid his heart would expand, burst.

 

*

 

Hot water pools around Louis' ankles, his tattoos slipping under the surface. Their clothes pool around the bathroom floor, disarray, but not out of place. They look like they had always been there. Just like Louis.   
  
He catches Liam's laugh, takes it in his hands, protects it from burning out. Harry's grin, dimples and all, grows wings and flies around his head once, before settling down and making a home in his heart. Giggling, Louis falls against Niall's chest in the bathtub. Falling is what he feels like. He likes falling.   
  
He ties his arms around Liam’s chest, kissing his cheek; warm, living. Hand on his heart, alive, real. A couple miles of legs more and they're all there, in the water, on Louis’ nightstand. Inside the pocket of his favourite pair of jeans, on the palms of his hands,--in his heart. As guessed, water splashes over the edges, hitting the floor.   
  
Niall insists on taking a pic of them, for evidence, he says. That pic is his phone’s background the next day, when Louis borrows his phone to call Nick. Louis smiles, doesn't tease him, doesn't even mention it. He knows. He loves his boys, too. He knows.   
  
They facetime Nick, still in the bathtub, limbs tangled.   
  
"I'm proud of you" Nick laughs, "but I bet you couldn't fit me in there too-"   
  


"Oh god, Nick. You're on water-wiping duty, then!" Liam sticks his tongue at Nick, giggling.

 

Their giggles taste like bubbles, to Louis. He likes bubbles.

 

*

 

_Starting a car when your hands are shaking like a leaf in a downpour is relatively hard. It’s almost as hard as trying to get your sleep, telling your brain to calm down, to not to be so nervous, excited. Eventually, your eyelids press closed to the rhythm of your boys’ breathing, a small smile curving your sleepy mouth._

 

_It gets easier when you’ve got the car running, though. The shaking of your hands has calmed down as your boys hold them, hold you. Their bright eyes hold yours, the fog long gone. Your feet get closer, step by step. Your wandering eyes find his, the hands leaving yours to welcome him. You’re tired of time slowing down; you press play and run. This time you have nothing to run away from, so your feet carry you to them; your boys, Nick. Home._

 

_*_


End file.
